Unemployedprofessors.com is one of the numerous writing services which claims that they will help you to write your essay or any other kind of academic work. However, this is an unusual site with a very specific approach to clients and an interesting design of their site. It is just interesting and entertaining to visit their site full of pictures of bearded professors who are busy with writing your works.
At this site you can read a very interesting history of its appearance. It tells that one day a young PhD candidate stood at the mountain and made complaints about his life and his academic job. A man in a suit heard all this and explained an academic that he is in business where he uses his skills to help others. An academic did not believe him and said that no one in the world needs his skills and he will never earn enough money for even good clothes. A man in a suit told him about mercenaries and proposed him to sell his skills and earn money. They became partners. They agreed that the modern educational system has its drawbacks. They knew they force students to write essays from their disciplines, but they cannot bring them any benefits and do not improve their educational level.
That is why this professor started writing high quality papers for students who do not have time to do this on their own and get money from this business. Unemployedprofessors care about academics who cannot find their place in the educational system as well as about students who are in this system, but who are not able to write about different, sometimes very complex subjects.
With years, the staff of Unemployedprofessors.com became bigger. There are many other professors and many other people who have their own personal reasons to earn money in this particular way. The work in Unemployedprofessors.com allows them to fulfill their dreams and ambitions. Their task is to help you in your studies and be a successful student. That is why real unemployed professors write custom papers for you.
Their business is legal and they can write almost any kind of paper for you. Their specialists can write a response paper, midterm and final essays, dissertations and thesis chapters, etc. All their experts have Master’s or PhD levels in various disciplines form Anthropology to Zoology. They can solve any of your problems with different subjects and create free time for you.
How do they work?
Their site based on an auction-style bidding system. There is a very high possibility that one of their professors experienced in a particular field will take your order. Surprisingly, but very high-level or specific projects are quite popular among their writers. However, your demands should not be very high, because even the most talented professor will not be able to write a forty-page dissertation on any theme for six hours. So, Unemployedprofessors.com advice you to:
Think carefully and realistically evaluate time limits of your order, because there are different orders which demand different time for their completion. You can always ask your teacher for more time for your assignment.
You have to be very specific in details concerning your order. Despite the specialization of a writer, s/he needs to know exactly all your wishes. You should, for example, mark that your work must be written in British English, etc.
They assure you that the content of your work will be of a high quality and they will meet all the realistic deadlines. Their tips will help you to find the best professor to write your paper.
Do you want to order your work at their site? You have to register, type your order in the form, see how writers ‘fight’ for your work and choose the best one. Then you can download your work and enjoy the quality of your paper.
Everybody in college hates papers. Students hate writing them so much that they buy, borrow, or steal them instead. Plagiarism is now so commonplace that if we flunked every kid who did it, we’d have a worse attrition rate than a MOOC. And on those rare occasions undergrads do deign to compose their own essays, said exegetic masterpieces usually take them all of half an hour at 4 a.m. to write, and consist accordingly of “arguments” that are at best tangentially related to the coursework, font-manipulated to meet the minimum required page-count. Oh, “attitudes about cultures have changed over time”? I’m so glad you let me know.
Nobody hates writing papers as much as collegeinstructorshategradingpapers (and no, having a robot do it is not the answer). Students of the world: You think it wastes 45 minutes of your sexting time to pluck out three quotes from The Sun Also Rises, summarize the same four plot points 50 times until you hit Page 5, and then crap out a two-sentence conclusion? It wastes 15 hours of my time to mark up my students’ flaccid theses and non sequitur textual “evidence,” not to mention abuse of the comma that should be punishable by some sort of law—all so that you can take a cursory glance at the grade and then chuck the paper forever.
What’s more, if your average college-goer does manage to read through her professor’s comments, she will likely view them as a grievous insult to her entire person, abject proof of how this cruel, unfeeling instructor hates her. That sliver of the student population that actually reads comments and wants to discuss them? They’re kids whose papers are good to begin with, and often obsessed with their GPAs. I guarantee you that every professor you know has given an A to a B paper just to keep a grade-grubber off her junk. (Not talking to you, current students! You’re all magnificent, and going to be president someday. Please do not email me.)
Oh, “attitudes about cultures have changed over time”? I’m so glad you let me know.
When I was growing up, my mother—who, like me, was a “contingent” professor—would sequester herself for days to grade, emerging Medusa-haired and demanding of sympathy. But the older I got, the more that sympathy dissipated: “If you hate grading papers so much,” I’d say, “there’s an easy solution for that.” My mother, not to be trifled with when righteously indignant (that favored state of the professoriate), would snap: “It’s an English class. I can’t not assign papers.”
Mom, friends, educators, students: We don’t have to assign papers, and we should stop. We need to admit that the required-course college essay is a failure. The baccalaureate is the new high-school diploma: abjectly necessary for any decent job in the cosmos. As such, students (and their parents) view college as professional training, an unpleasant necessity en route to that all-important “piece of paper.” Today’s vocationally minded students view World Lit 101 as forced labor, an utterwasteof their time that deserves neither engagement nor effort. So you know what else is a waste of time? Grading these students’ effing papers. It’s time to declare unconditional defeat.
Most students enter college barely able to string three sentences together—and they leave it that way, too. With protracted effort and a rhapsodically engaged instructor, some may learn to craft a clunky but competent essay somewhere along the way. But who cares? My fellowhumanistsinsist valiantly that (among other more elevated reasons) writing humanities papers leads to the crafting of sharp argumentative skills, and thus a lifetime of success in a number of fields in which we have no relevant experience. But my friends who actually work in such fields assure me that most of their colleagues are borderline-illiterate. After all, Mark Zuckerberg’s pre-Facebook Friendster profile bragged “i don’t read” (sic),and look at him.
Of course it would be better for humanity if college in the United States actually required a semblance of adult writing competency. But I have tried everything. I held a workshop dedicated to avoiding vague introductions (“The idea and concept of the duality of sin and righteousness has been at the forefront of our understanding of important concepts since the beginning of time.”) The result was papers that started with two incoherent sentences that had nothing to do with each other. I tried removing the introduction and conclusion altogether, and asking for a three-paragraph miniessay with a specific argument—what I got read like One Direction fan fiction.
I’ve graded drafts and assigned rewrites, and that helps the good students get better, but the bad students, the ones I’m trying to help, just fail to turn in any drafts at all. Meanwhile, I come up for air and realize that with all this extra grading, I’m making 75 cents an hour.
I’m not calling for the end of all papers—just the end of papers in required courses. Some students actually like writing, and let those blessed young souls be English majors, and expound on George Eliot and Virginia Woolf to their hearts’ content, and grow up to become writers, huzzah. But for the common good, leave everyone else out of it.
Instead of essays, required humanities courses (which I support, for all the reasons William Cronon, Martha Nussbaum, and Paulo Freire give) should return to old-school, hardcore exams, written and oral. You cannot bullshit a line-ID. Nor can you get away with only having read one page of the book when your professor is staring you down with a serious question. And best of all, oral exams barely need grading: If you don’t know what you’re talking about, it is immediately and readily manifest (not to mention, it’s profoundly schadenfroh when a student has to look me in the face and admit he’s done no work).
A Slate Plus Special Feature:
Students hate writing papers, and professors hate grading them. Should we stop assigning them? Listen to the debate on Slate Plus.
Plus, replacing papers with rigorous, old-school, St. John’s-style tribulations also addresses an issue humanities-haters love to belabor: Paper-grading is so subjective, and paper-writing so easy to fake, that this gives the humanities their unfortunate reputation as imprecise, feelings-centered disciplines where there are “no right answers.” So let’s start requiring some right answers.
Sure, this quashes the shallow pretense of expecting undergraduates to engage in thoughtful analysis, but they have already proven that they will go to any lengths to avoid doing this. Call me a defeatist, but honestly I’d be happy if a plurality of American college students could discern even the skeletal plot of anything they were assigned. With more exams and no papers, they’ll at least have a shot at retaining, just for a short while, the basic facts of some of the greatest stories ever recorded. In that short while, they may even develop the tiniest inkling of what Martha Nussbaum calls “sympathetic imagination”—the cultivation of our own humanity, and something that unfolds when we’re touched by stories of people who are very much unlike us. And that, frankly, is more than any essay will ever do for them.